


Never

by ConstanceComment



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Dangan Ronpa - Bad End, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Pregnant Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstanceComment/pseuds/ConstanceComment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fukawa has a conversation with her other half during the bad end. Spoilers for Dangan Ronpa past chapter two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainbowodyssey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowodyssey/gifts).



In her belly, her son kicks, strong and swift but only once, the blow landing on Fukawa’s insides. He stills after one, settling immediately as if apologizing for his actions. Even at seven months old, her son is afraid, and Fukawa will not abide this. The child she is carrying will be the heir to the Togami Conglomerate, whether he ever leaves this place or not. He should not be afraid, he should be as proud and strong as his father.

Byakuya’s breathing is very steady. Even when he sleeps he is measured; for all the months she has slept beside him, not once has Fukawa heard him cry out, felt him twitch, soothed his nightmares. She would envy this talent of his were it not another sign of his perfection. Byakuya is forever preternaturally untroubled despite the horrors they have both seen, the horrors they have both lived Death flitted through his life and exited to leave him unscathed. Now here beside her he sleeps, a marvel left untouched.

Fukawa is determined to keep him that way. In the back of her mind, there is the echo of laughter, and it frightens her, yes, but for once, for once in her miserable life she will be brave-

“No,” she declares quietly, making a vow of it. All her will she gathers to herself, all the determination that saw her through seven book deals and one tentative meeting for a movie adaptation, that let her become the premier in her field at such a young age, that made Touko Fukawa a household name within a year of her first published novel.

Closer to the front now she hears laughter, feels an urge to sneeze as she has not for seven months-

 _“No,”_ Fukawa says again, clutching her head with a free hand, gritting her teeth. She says it louder and stronger because she can, because she has gotten very good, lately, at getting what she wants, and she has months of practice at saying no.

Touko Fukawa does not belong solely to herself. She never has, never has, but now she is shared between three, no longer just Fukawa and the monster that calls itself her other half.

Under her hand her baby stirs, restless at his mother’s fear. At his movements, Fukawa stills, clarity sharpening her will to a knife’s edge.

“Do you hear me, Genocider?” She says quietly, steel in her voice, serenity in her bearing. “You will not touch them.

This is her family, the two men who matter most, who have given her everything despite her being wretched, undeserving, pitiful. And yes, Byakuya despises her, but he should, he should, she asks him to and accepts the curses from his mouth as they trade kisses, knows the honor of sleeping beside him for what it is, knows that the holy glory of carrying his child is no less than a miracle.

 _‘Or what,’_ the back of her mind laughs, not believing, but curious, too.

“I will kill you,” Fukawa says simply, her hand tracing small circles on her belly.

_‘Are they not mine? You’ve kept me out so long, loser, I wonder how long you can go-‘_

“They will _never_ be yours,” Fukawa snarls, hand clenching a fist from instinct. “Never,” she repeats, and looks back at her love, feels her son kick out once more.

 _‘Is that a threat?’_ Syo asks, genuinely intrigued for all Fukawa can tell. She is not used to facing the monster directly, their interactions previously being through notes and bodies, and notes left on bodies.

“It is a promise,” Fukawa swears, and beneath her hand her son again stills, his mother’s touch soothing him to sleep.


End file.
